


Writing's On The Wall

by robertstanion



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid, Nightmare Time - Team StarKid
Genre: 5 years from Black Friday, Angst, Arguing, Crying, Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death, Nightmare Time Spoilers, Pain, Song: Writing's on the Wall (Sam Smith), Songfic, The Black And White, Torture, anyways i also dont know where this came from, anyways some sypf lore for the homies and homiesexuals tonight, but not major character death, i wont give the boys a break, john mcnamara has allergies, no, reassurance, they don't deserve it, wink - Freeform, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robertstanion/pseuds/robertstanion
Summary: After the successful detonation of the nuke on Black Friday, they thought it was the end of The Black and White. Unfortunately for General McNamara, a letter from a mysterious "Miss Holloway" changed everything. Now, not only is his life on the line, but so is his marriage. What can be done to prevent the near stages of an apocalypse before it escalates any further when nobody's listening
Relationships: Xander Lee/John McNamara
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Writing's On The Wall

**Author's Note:**

> anyways good evening it's fanfic time brrr
> 
> cw: a mention of skin melting, fighting between married men, xander lee spitting fax, tinky

_I’ve been here before._

He walked up the stairs, a solemn expression on his face. Anger consumed him as he stepped in to the lavish first room of their house. Deep brown carpet with a lavish maroon coating the walls. Chairs and sofas of red and browns scattering the room. A small brown shelf stood over where they kept their TV that held memories, such as them on their wedding day, on dates, mock photoshoots, and more importantly, them receiving their promotions in full uniform. He hated how much the room smelt like home. He hated how he’d gave to say goodbye.

_But always hit the floor._

He could hear his husband singing to a CD he’d bought him a while ago for his birthday in just the other room. He removed his beret and placed it on the top of the coat rack, removing his vest promptly to hang up as well. He was fearing to see him. The man he loved, the man he cherished, the man he was proud of he was now scared to see. Scared to see the beams he emitted when he smiled, scared to see the brown eyes he got lost in. He wasn’t scared to see _him;_ he was scared to see how he’d react. He could hear the clatter of the oven door closing, which meant he was cooking dinner. Person one tried to ignore it, blocking out every sense he could. With his back turned, he didn’t realise his husband had walked back in the living room, that same proud smile on the back of his neck.

“I didn’t realise you were home,” he chucked, but he couldn’t deny the truth. He felt familiar arms snake around his waist, and a kiss pressed to his temple, but he turned around, not a smile in sight.

“We need to talk.”

_I’ve spent a lifetime running._

They decided to wait until dinner was being served, but the anticipation was killing him. He got himself a glass of whiskey, taking it as a shot, placing the glass back down. The burn on his throat used to be so harsh before, and now there was nothing. Numbness was bitter to him, and every time he thought he conquered the enemy, it always came back. They always did. He took a seat at the table as Xander dished up on two teal plates, courtesy of John’s choice. Xander looked back to him, not realising the seriousness of the situation that was about to occur. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to sit down.”

“John?”

“Just _sit-…_ sit down.” He wasn’t supposed to get angry. Not now, not ever, and especially not now.

_And I always get away._

Xander offered a nervous look back to him as he saw John pour himself another glass of whiskey. It wasn’t a good sign. He carried the plates over to the table, a feeling of guilt forming in his stomach, but he didn’t understand why. He hadn’t done anything…had he? He took a seat at the table and looked to John, who was sipping on the glass. “John?” He asked again, but softer.

John slammed the glass down, harder than intended. He couldn’t look his husband in the eyes. He couldn’t _look_ at his husband. The worry, the concern, Xander, it was all too much for the news he was about to break. It wasn’t easy. He ran a hand through his hair and shut his eyes. “The portal reopened half an hour ago.”

“Shit.” Xander said at once. “But we got rid of it! We detonated the nuke, it destroyed the realm, it mended the rip in the fabric of the universe! You know it did, you were _there!_ ” The cogs in his mind started working quicker to try and figure it out, but no equation he’d ever studied could explain the impossible. “So what do we need to do?”

 _We._ The collective usage made his mind hurt. His heart tightened in his chest, and he gripped the glass tighter in his hands. He exhaled, finally looking at Xander. “I’m saying goodbye.”

Xander stopped, listening to what he said. The fork he just picked up clattered to back down to the table as his hand became shaky. “You’re going back to PEIP tonight?”

John shook his head, his heart beating slightly faster in his chest. “By this time tomorrow…I fear I will no longer be coming back home.” He bit on his lip. “This mission…it’s larger than ever before. It’s dangerous-“

“It’s a suicide mission.” Xander finally said as the cogs in his mind stopped, landing on a result. “You’re going to die.” His voice was quieter, but it didn’t mean the wavering wasn’t heard from the other side of the table by his husband. He looked at John, and when he nodded, his fears were confirmed. “You told me- you told me on our wedding day y-you were never doing this again!”

“You think I have a choice?!” John asked and looked at him. “You think I want to leave you?!”

“You definitely seemed like that before we got married! Any chance you got to go on a dangerous mission, you took it. You didn’t think about me, did you?!”

“Back then I didn’t and-“

“So what’s to say my name crossed your mind tonight?” He asked and the room fell silent. His husband broke his promise. Tears continued to fall from his eyes as he stood up, letting his chair clatter to the floor.

“Where are you going?!” John asked, standing, as Xander stormed out of the kitchen, heading to the stairs.

“I’m not hungry!” Came his quivering reply that left John in the kitchen, the same shitty CD playing in the background.

_But with you I’m feeling something…_

He looked to the food on the table, the food Xander had made specifically for them, for dinner that night. A meal they would be sharing together because that’s what married couples did. They sat down at dinner, discussed their days, their troubles. They smiled, they kissed, they cuddled…but now it was different. John sunk back into his chair, head in hands, as he thought about everything. If only Xander had stayed and listened. He hadn’t wanted their last talk to be a fight, especially not one that left Xander so upset.

He got approached by one of his agents. A letter in hand that specified the requirements of the mission. Wilbur was back in action, and who better to stop him than his own mentee? The letter had come from a mysterious woman, who’d enclosed a photograph of herself. Wild red hair cut into short bangs above her eyebrows wearing a similar denim jacket to the one he’d last seen Wilbur in. Her name ‘Miss Holloway,’ and she was asking John to do it. Asking John to stop a mission she hadn’t been able to complete. A plea, and a cry, and he was forced into a situation he didn’t want to do.

Xander had been on his mind the entire time. His husband was on his mind as he was fitted into a suit, as he walked past his husband’s laboratory, as he locked up the office for the night. He wasn’t the same man who’d gone into the portal the first time. He’d fallen in love with Xander but hadn’t known it at the time. He’d been a reckless man with a reckless heart and a reckless sense to the universe. Now, married to the man, he never wanted to be parted from him, and he was back to the 23rd November 2018 where he’d been 5 years before.

He never thought he’d have a significant other, let alone one who’d ever want to marry him, and he was parting with _the_ most special man in the universe. But Xander…Xander was making him feel things. Making him feel things he’d never felt before, and he hated them. He wanted to stay at home and cuddle and make shitty cookies with him without having to worry about the world. Now he had to worry about the _end_ of the world, and his husband didn’t want to be near him.

_…that makes me want to stay._

John barely touched his food. He tried to, but it was difficult to focus when Xander’s music was playing when Xander was upstairs, crying. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t do anything without Xander by his side. He rose from the table, picking the chair that was still lying on the floor up and headed up the stairs. Though the rooms were mainly silent, he had an instinct that led them to their room.

He opened the door, and he saw Xander sitting on the edge of the bed, a photo frame in hand. He was in his pyjamas, and his shoulders were shaking in a manner that confirmed he was still crying. John stepped forward and sat on the bed beside him, a hand on his shoulder, but Xander jerked it away. “Let me go.”

“Xander-“

“I said let me go, John!” He turned to face him, placing the photo frame on the bed, hiding the picture that was encapsuled in it. “Don’t try and comfort me when you’ve just admitted to my face you’re going to die! I thought you changed, I let myself fall in love with a fool- I let myself fall in love with _you!”_ He stood again, not looking at him.

“Sweetheart, _please.”_ John tried and stood as well. “You aren’t _listening_ to me!”

“Well now you know how I felt all those years ago.” Xander refused to look at him. His heart was broken, this was worse than a breakup. He knew how the outcome of tomorrow was going to go.

_I’m prepared for this._

“I’ve changed in those past 5 years. After everything I’ve ever had to see you go through since I was revived back in 2018, I have _never_ gone on a mission more dangerous than Black Friday. I never let a mission get so far that hundreds of soldiers would die because I couldn’t control my precinct. This time, I don’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit.”

“Listen to me.” He grabbed Xander’s wrist and took out the letter from his pocket, placing it in his hand. “I was signed up for this mission 19 years ago. I was hardly a General then.”

Xander’s hand scrunched into a ball, removing itself from his husband’s grip. His eyes skimmed over the words and the serif like handwriting, reading the mysterious Holloway’s words.

_I never shoot to miss._

“I don’t want to go on this mission tomorrow.” John spoke calmly, his hand returning to Xander’s shoulder. “I want to stay with you, I want to love you. I don’t want to leave you crying like this...But I don’t have a choice. I’m not just saying that because I want to go on this mission. I don’t want to face my mentor again. I left it in the past. I won’t leave you in the past.”

“I hate this…” Xander said at once. His knees buckled and he gripped John to keep him steady. John jumped back into action and caught him, holding him up. “Please don’t go in that portal. You have someone who’s going to love you and care for you until we’re…like 80! John, please.”

“This is why I needed to talk to you tonight.” He said, taking his hand, squeezing it gently. “Tomorrow, there’s a high possibility I may be dead. Tomorrow, there’s a possibility every memory of me will be eradicated from existence. But as I was fitted into a suit, as I walked down the corridors to go home tonight and I thought of my stupendous husband…I realised one thing.”

“You’re going to send me in there, aren’t you?”

“There’s an equation you came up with that enables us to fight from the outside.”

_But I feel like a storm is coming._

Xander blinked the tears away, looking down to the hand who was holding his. Layers of skin were missing from around his husband’s thumb, and his nails were bitten down to the bed, brittle and jagged. The thumb ran over Xander’s cracked knuckles, and there was another squeeze. “You don’t want my help.”

“Of course I do.” John assured, guiding Xander back to their bed. “You’re the smartest mind I have ever witnessed, you’re the kindest, most beautiful soul to walk this earth. You’re compassionate, you’re witty, you’re full of sympathy and you tell me I don’t need your help.”

“Schaffer would be more than willing to take up the offer…”

“Yet, I’m your general, and I’m telling you that we are working on this mission tomorrow. Not as a team, but as husbands.”

_If I’m gonna make it through the day._

John wrapped his arms around Xander, slowly, letting Xander lean into him. He felt Xander grip his coarse shirt, his face scrunching up as he burrowed into his chest. John’s hand found itself running over Xander’s short hair, placing the softest kiss to his forehead.

“John, I don’t think I’m able to do that. I don’t think I’m able to risk my life for yours.”

“We aren’t going to do that.” John’s voice was nearly a whisper at that point. He tapped a button on his watch that loaded up a diagram in holograph method that showed the results of the equation Xander created. “Five eldritch beings. Five strengths that bond them. Nibblenephim has 4 parts R-3D in their DNA. T’Noy Karaxis has only Y-3LO and Pokotho has BL-U3. You take two parts R-3D with two parts BL-U3 and who do you get?”

Xander swallowed and opened his eyes, looking to the screen. “Bliklotep. P-3PL.”

“And you take two parts Y-3LO and two parts BL-U3, who do you get?”

Xander scratched underneath his nose with his thumb and sniffled. “Wiggog T’Wrath, G-R3N.”

“But what do we get when we add R-3D to Y-3LO?”

“I…I don’t know…”

“You get the blood of the living. Of all of humanity,” he explained to Xander, still squeezing his hand. “A, B, B+ and O. That’s what you get when Nibblenephim and T’Noy Karaxis combine. But there’s a sixth entity in The Black and White missing, who doesn’t confide to this chart.” He opened up a colour wheel on his diagram and looked at him. “The Black and White is filled with lightness and darkness. Once you’re in, colour is gone. Except…”

“Except what….?”

“There’s an entity named Webby within The Black and White. _She_ is a white spider with orange eyes. She is the anomaly. She is the good. She has been reported to be missing currently and it is PEIP’s duty to get her back to prevent a fifth apocalypse. But how do we add colour to a realm that has a ginormous tear in it?” He asked and looked at Xander who perked up slightly.

“The chemicals in the blood of the dead act as a glue. The spores keep The Black and White together. So, if we combine R-3D, Y-3LO, G-R3N, BL-U3 and P-3PL with a human’s blood we- we restore colour to The Black and White, bring Webby back and-“

“Defeat The Black and White once and for all.”

_Then there’s no more use in running._

“But who’s blood is going to work? How can we know for sure?” Xander asked as John reached into his pocket, pulling out a vial of blood with a slightly orange tone to it.

“OR-3NG. Courtesy of Miss Holloway.” He extended his hand out to Xander, who took it, examining it with close eyes. “This is our answer, Xander. This is how we win.” He kissed Xander’s cheek and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, a small smile formed. “Tomorrow, we fight. Tomorrow, I take in the compounds formed from your hands. I go in the portal- _with a suit-_ and defeat The Black and White once and for all.” He looked to Xander and saw the creases in Xander’s cheeks form into a small smile. “I hate to cut this short, but I believe we have dinner waiting on the table.”

“It’s probably cold.”

John shrugged. “Not if we eat it quick enough.”

_There is something I gotta face._

7 AM in the morning, John and Xander arrived at PEIP. John went into the fitting room, putting on his suit, before heading straight to Xander’s lab, an untearable material fitted tight against his body. He took deep breaths, carrying the bubble helmet under his arm, pushing open the door to his lab.

_If I risk it all._

“Good morning, Firefly.”

“Good morning, Honeybee,” Xander said, spinning around, goggles on his head instead of his eyes. John walked over to him, placing the eyewear on the bridge of Xander’s nose.

“You’re supposed to wear those for a reason.” He kissed Xander quickly before sitting at one of the stools along the workbench. He could feel Xander’s eye roll from miles away.

Xander turned back to his microscope, plucking the tweezers back up. In a small flask was the different spores that John could see clearly. They formed together to make a black liquid, tinted with blue. He uncapped the vial to Holloway’s blood and tipped it in, watching as the liquid began to shine. The physicist transferred the small flask of contents into a shell of a pocket grenade and handed it to John. “This little baby is gonna save your life. Is gonna save _ours.”_ He slid it into the pocket of John’s trousers and looked at him. “Faux leather?”

“The very same you created.”

“You look hot like this…” He said, his voice lowering, and John laughed as Xander kissed under his ear.

“I’ve got to go in the portal…” he laughed, and Xander let out a groan of protest. “I’ll be back as soon as I can be, and I’ll be all yours okay?”

“You need to promise me,” Xander said, burying his face in John’s hair, and John smiled.

“I cross my heart, hope to die.” He said softly, turning around, his hand on Xander’s shoulder. He looked over the beautiful features of his husband, from the stubble on his chin to the brightness of his eyes. He’d scored lucky. He leaned in closer, and Xander held John’s waist, pulling him closer. John dropped the helmet to the floor, draping his arms over Xander’s shoulder. Eyes shut, smiles forming, neither wanted to be the first to let go. “I love you, Xander.”

“I love you too…” he whispered back against John’s lips, pulling him back in for a kiss before another agent appeared at the door.

“General McNamar-oh fuck Jesus sorry did I walk in on something?” The agent asked, shielding their eyes as he turned his back.

John pulled away, grinning as he let go of Xander, picking up the helmet. “You’re alright, son.” He turned and pecked Xander on the lips once more. “I love you!”

“I love you too!” Xander shouted back to him as he watched John hurry back out the room. He sighed deeply and sat down at his desk, logging on to the tracker in John’s suit. This _had_ to go well.

_Could you break my fall?_

John found the familiar feeling of the portal consuming him just as tingly as before. His body rematerialized back in the fabric of time and space. The same victim’s blood was on the floor, the same steady hum, the same everything and everyone. And Wilbur was waiting for him.

He strode forward, careless. He had a grenade to detonate, he had the answer to a problem that could be solved, and he had a home to get back to. He needed to get home to Xander. He _just_ needed home…

_How do I live? How do I breathe?_

Xander. Right. His husband who he’d just been kissing goodbye. His husband who he comforted last night, reassuring today was going to go away. It had to be okay…it had to. He could feel a bee’s hive of tears fill his eyes that he choked back. He wouldn’t be able to remove the helmet or he’d die. He took a sharp breath, his chest tighter than it had been before, continuing to stride forward.

_When you’re not here, I’m suffocating._

He tried to inhale more. Maybe it was the confined space around his head that was making his chest tight, or maybe it was the fear that he wouldn’t make it home again like he’d promised, but a panic attack was on the brink. He tried to breathe again and was met with a taste of salt, his chest visibly tightening. His gloved hand flew up and touched the area, his heart beating too quickly. Something was wrong.

_I want to feel love run through my blood._

John choked out a breath the third time, becoming weaker. A tight band constricted itself around his forehead. A tear slipped down his cheek as the pain became more immense with every breath. He didn’t understand what was going on. The suit was tearproof, there wasn’t any signs of damage when he went to get it fitted. He sunk to the blood on the ground, a gloved hand reaching up, massaging the sides of his neck with his thumb and first finger, trying to get himself to breathe.

_Tell me is this where I give it all up?_

His strength vanished and his eyelids began to droop. He hadn’t been in there for to long at all. It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t fair. He had six against one, and he knew this couldn’t be the realms doing. The realm wasn’t dangerous, it was what the Gods had done to it that made it that way. Otherwise, there wasn’t any need for danger. It was protected from global warming, from flooding, from heat, from destruction. The Gods made it dangerous. The Gods wanted it gone.

_For you I have to risk it all._

John coughed and spluttered as he collapsed further into the blood, the sensation that he was falling through it suddenly engulfing him. He found himself unable to breathe, and when he tried to, the scent of chlorine blocked his nose. He choked and clawed at his neck attempting to free himself, but he failed. Every breath felt as if he were inhaling water, and his lungs became heavier. He spluttered more as he placed his head on the floor, a voice in the back of his mind, words appearing on the walls. _John. John. John. John. John. JoHN. JOHN. JOHN. JO-_

_Cause the writing’s on the wall._

John passed out there and then. He thought that was his end, that he wouldn’t wake, and he was surprised when his blue eyes opened, and he was sat in a steel chair. He wasn’t tied down, which was unusual, and it was almost as if he’d been rescued. He touched over his upper half, his suit still intact, the helmet with only scratches on it. Someone had saved him, but who?

_A million shards of glass._

John sat up straighter, his head lolling on his shoulders as he heard the quick splashes of blood getting nearer and nearer. He’d expected it to be Wilbur, pinning him against the wall that formed the heartbeat of the realm, but he didn’t expect to see such a familiar figure, with buzzed black hair and a chiselled jaw. John looked over at him, his eyes gathering with tears as the other man raced forward, looking him over. “I thought you were dead!”

“Xander, I’m sorry…” John became choked up again as he hugged Xander tightly. “I don’t know what happened! I was- I walked in and I couldn’t breathe, then I felt like I was drowning and-“

“Shh…Shhh, I’ve got you.”

_That haunt me from my past._

“You’re supposed to be back in the lab! You’re supposed to be safe!” John told him, his voice quiet, sobs being resisted as he looked back at his husband, helpless and weak. Xander, to his surprise, shook his head, cupping the plastic of the bubble helmet.

“It’s okay. Someone’s back in HQ watching over us in the labs just-“

“Why are you _here_?” His voice broke as tears continued to stream down his face.

Xander took a breath and looked at him. “You were having an allergic reaction. There was a tiny split in your mask that was forcing you to become exposed to high levels of artificial oxygen. After your body was revived, your body created a defence that was it’d protect you from the realm even if it meant killing you.”

“No…” John said and shook his head. “Xander-“

“I’m here. You have the grenade, but you aren’t alone anymore. We’re getting through this together, remember? Me and you.”

“Me and you…” John repeated, his voice still shaking. “You need to promise me…”

“Of course I do.”

_As the stars begin to gather..._

John felt small amounts of hope build up inside of him as he noticed how his husband looked around, searching for the answers inside the realm itself. “Xander?”

“Are you gonna be able to stand?” He asked and turned back to his husband. Even in a faux leather suit and a bubble helmet, there was a certain element of majesty to him. That man was powerful, and he did _not_ need that reminder.

John tried, his knees buckling out of place once more. He caught himself on the chair and on Xander’s arm before taking a breath to steady himself. “I’ll be alright.”

“Keep a hold of me. We’re getting out of here together. I’m not letting you go.” Xander became insistent, wrapping his arm around John’s waist to keep him steady. John leaned against the physicist for support, and together, they began their (what could be an) endless trek through the blood of the victims of Wilbur Cross and his toys.

_…and the light begins to fade…_

They continued their journey deeper into the pit of the realm. It was dark, and there was no light at one point aside from the soft green glow that the torch Xander had managed to bring in with him produced, forming a shallow path for the two soldiers to walk through.

John had never felt weaker in his life, or as reliant as he was being. He wanted to differentiate between the real world and the speed of time, but it was hard to cling on to the fragments of hope he found in himself minutes before. At the rate they were heading, there was no leaving The Black and White. The memories of Lieutenant Xander Lee and General John McNamara would vanish. The title of General would be passed to Colonel Schaffer, and life would proceed as if Schaffer had always been the general.

He wanted to go home. He’d never felt so submissive, never felt like such a failure in association with a mission up until that point. He’d never wanted to feel like a permanent man who stayed at home like a traditional housewife. He wanted safety and security for him and his husband, but that would never come while they worked at PEIP.

_…when all hope begins to shatter…_

“Here.” Xander broke the silence between them and they stopped moving. The torch was showing a dip in the floor. He shone it in front of them, and there was a table that stood tall. There was a silhouette of a tall man, and another five silhouettes of creatures of several variations. He held John closer to his side, not daring to let him go.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he whispered softly, but John shook his head. They could turn and run back. They could surrender and try again another day. He should have realised, when Xander had come into the portal himself, this mission wasn’t backing down. “Stay strong, soldier.”

_…know that I won’t be afraid._

“Jonathan McNamara,” the denim-clad silhouette asked, turning around, his features highlighted by the soft lighting of the torch. “And…a _guest?”_

“Xandy-Wandy!” One of the five figures said, and the other’s screeched with laughter.

“Webby ain’t here. You might as well _fuck_ off back home.” Another spoke, with a bright suit, possibly white, and a long braid down it’s back.

“That isn’t happening. I’m sure you realise that by now.” Xander growled, holding John closer. He could see, from the corner of his eye, how pale John was getting. They were running out of time. If time was running at all…

_If I risk it all…_

“Married, and yet, you _still_ return home!” Another voice, a more nasally one spoke, and a helmet dropped to the floor. “What did you want, permission from your dad-“

“Children!” The only human spoke, a laugh forming on the front of his tongue as his fingers curled into a ball in his hand. “Let the darlings speak.” He opened his hand again, and in it’s place was an apple. He took a bite, chewing it with his crooked jaw, smirking.

“We’re bringing Webby back.” John wheezed out, and the other’s laughed.

“Sure.” A smaller, melodic voice said in retaliation, certainly mocking the downfall of the general.

John looked up to Xander, his hand clutching at his chest again. “Xander-“

“We are getting out of here. Steady breaths. We are getting out of here.” Xander said, his voice persistent, ignoring the cackles that came from behind him.

_…could you break my fall?_

John went to speak but found himself on the floor once again. His knees were too weak, and he felt limp. His eyes grew heavier, and with no energy to cry, he had nothing.

Xander caught him, preventing him from hitting the floor. He knelt in the staining liquid, holding John against his chest. He wanted so desperately as to tear the bubble helmet from the buckles that secured it in place, to run his gloved hand through John’s golden hair one more time, to kiss his skin if this was the last time he’d ever get to hold him, but he was in a similar situation as well. “Stay awake.”

“I’m trying…” he said quietly, and Xander nodded. They’d both discovered that, in the case they thought they were going to die or were losing a lot of energy quickly, whispering was the easiest way to communicate. It saved energy. It saved _them._

_How do I live? How do I breathe?_

“Slowly…” Xander placed his hand on John’s chest, cradling him in his lap. “In, and out. In, and out.” He smiled down at him, watching as he fell into a steady pattern that was currently keeping him alive. “We’ve got this. Can I grab the-“

“The bomb?” A shadowed figure asked, walking into the light. It had pale skin and appeared to be wearing some sort of yellow suit. It had a black cape over it, shielding it’s eyes and upper half of it’s face from the agents. “You remembered how nuking _us_ went last time.”

“You didn’t kill us, Xander. You _multiplied_ us.” Another figure stepped into the light. It was dressed in pink, and had a wide grin set upon it’s face that looked as if it were made of clay. “And it’ll happen again, and again, and again.” He wore the same cloak as the first.

“You think you’re ‘all that’ and you ain’t!” A third, stronger voice, hissed. He stepped into the light, and it had long, green hair. It had yellowish skin, and wore a collar that looked as if it had an octopus’ tentacles attached to it, but the limbs were a green, and the markings were black. “We’re coming for you, Xandy, and we won’t stop until your dead.” He held his hand out to the figure next to him, the cloak slipping off his arm to reveal some sort of green blazer. The ‘grenade’ was placed in the hand by the one with the long braid, and it slid back into the cloak.

“You _and_ your hubby!” A fourth spoke, stepping back into the little light around them. It wore a metallicesque skirt attached to a white undershirt, and wore a longer cloak than the rest of them did. There wasn’t a smile that the two agents could see, like with his brothers. There seemed to be something stone covering him up. That seemed to be scarier than the figure with a mouth like clay.

“Hubby wubby who we’ve been watching since the beginning of time itself.” A final figure moved around them. He was different in the sense he wasn’t wearing a suit. He wore a sort-of onesie coated in purple and pink furs from somewhere like a cheap, shitty craft store. He had the darkest skin of the lot of them, and adjusted his hood over his eyes.

“Tick tock, Johnny-won.” The yellow figure said.

“Time’s running out…” the maniacal figure of Wilbur Cross took centre in front of the green creature. His jacket was stained with blood in various patches, and his brunette hair John had always described as ‘untameable and fluffy’ was now slicked back with some sort of liquid dense enough to make his hair stay down and darken in colour. Blood. It had to be blood. “For, worlds collide.”

“You went and opened the box,” the yellow one continued, and in sync, they all extended their left hands to the two men curled up with each other on the floor.

“And we came out…” they said in unison as John curled up more, pain still shooting through his chest. He kicked at the blood, his teeth grit, which seemed to give the eldritch figures more joy. Xander turned fully to his husband, holding him closer.

“John, it’s going to be okay. I’ve got you…”

_When you’re not here I’m suffocating._

“But not for long.” The pink one spoke, drawing Xander’s eyes away from his husband and to the all-too-tall figures before him. Back in unison, they reached up and gripped the thin material of the cloaks as Wilbur stood to the side, taking another bite of the apple he’d formed.

The first lowered his cloak to reveal bright, lilac eyes with a piercing, yellow pupil. He looked directly at the two, extending his left hand back to the agents. His brother, the one next to them, seemed to have trouble lowering his cloak, and Xander understood why once it was down. The figure with the long blonde hair and the yellow suit _also_ had goat horns and held a golden rubix cube type figure in his right hand. He had wild eyes that were also a vibrant yellow. The one in the middle lowered his cloak to reveal a man with wet, green hair, a red ring around his yellow eyes with a blue iris and small pupils. His teeth were jagged, like the rest of his suit that was torn.

“Wiggly…” John growled before spluttering. It forced Xander to squeeze him gently, rubbing his back. They had to be okay. They had to be…

The fourth lowered his cloak, revealing a figure with a grey face. Upon closer inspection, it was made of stone, and blue goop was leaking out of it. He couldn’t see the eyes, for they were dark circles in the back of his head, and he had short, navy hair. The fifth lowered his cloak at long last, revealing a man almost identical to Xander with wild yellow eyes with a purple pupil.

Again, in unison, they shrugged the black fabric off them revealing their true forms. Hands merged to their faces, pulling on the skin that built their human forms until they were all coated in furs of their assigned colour, aside from the guy on the far right, who simply lifted a helmet on to his head, fastened it, and the smirk became imminent from the large yellow eye that followed them.

_I want to feel love, run through my blood._

“Nibblenephim, T’Noy Karaxis, Wiggog T’Wrath, Pokotho and Bliklotep.” Cross said, stepping back into frame. “And these boys? Well…” he chuckled before his own brown eyes turned a vicious green. “You’re looking at your demise.”

“Webby ain’t coming back,” the one second from the left spoke, his bucked teeth moving with every syllable.

“She’s deady-wed!” Wiggly stirred, and as they laughed, John spluttered again.

“John, we’re getting out of here….” Xander thought and shut his eyes tightly, thinking desperately of a plan. If they thought that the ‘bomb’ was real and not artificial, and they detonated it…then PEIP would win. “I know what I’m doing.” He continued to rub John’s back as he choked and cried out more and more.

_Tell me is this where I give it all up?_

“And you will _follow_ her too!” Pokotho said, clasping his blue paw-like hands. “It’s inevitable, after all…” his voice was a borderline song, and it sent the other four into a shockwave of shrieking laughter. “Because once we pull this pin…you’ll be toast!”

“So say bye byes….to Nibbly, Tinky, Wiggly, Pokey and Blinky, boys. They didn’t want you here anyway.” Wilbur said, clasping his hands behind his back, lowering his head, but his eyes remained fixed on the two younger agents.

John tensed as the hooked fingers of Wiggly pulled the pin on the grenade and uncapped it, throwing it hard in the blood.

_For you I have to risk it all._

The Gods continued to laugh, but unlike Black Friday, there wasn’t a hint of light that blasted around the realm in an attempt to destroy it. Instead, they watched as the blood on the ground shrivelled up in a whirlpool type motion. Next came the dancing of the R-3D that latched itself to the air, and like a magnet, the body of Nibblenephim instinctively tried to join the spores that should be in him that weren’t. The body began to deteriorate in front of their very eyes in a hot pinky-red ash that, once connecting to each other, joined into a string that formed a letter on the back wall.

Next was the Y-3LO. It was more electric-looking than the other, more of a sharp spark than the other one had been. It fluttered in and out of being lit, and Xander watched as Tinky grasped at himself, helpless to the power that was Xander Lee’s mind. More of the spores connected into a string that formed as the body of the goat-man decayed into a sparkling ash.

The G-R3N went next. It started in the tentacles, a small cone-shaped spore fluttering around like a butterfly would dance. Wiggly placed his hands in front of his face, watching as holes began to form in the fur in his arms. He outstretched an arm to John and Xander, a growl of revenge on his face before he dissolved out of existence, the spores that formed his blood creating the third letter.

Pokotho went peacefully. The BL-U3, that took form as a gooey slime, seeped from the stony mask. It flooded the small holes where his eyes, nose and mouth had been, choking him. As the doll’s body had filled with his own blood, he’d collapsed down into the ground, and upon impact, dissolved. His blood became the fourth letter.

Blinky tried to fight it, but he couldn’t. The P-3PL, which was like a corkscrew, whizzed around the air. Blinky tried to run, taking off the helmet, but started screeching out about a stinging pain in his chest. He touched his face, and as soon as he did, his skin melted off, including his facial features, leaving a deep hole within it. The rest of his body melted into nothingness as the spores formed a final letter, plastering itself to the wall.

Xander looked up as there was a crackle of white light that appeared beside the first letter, a figure forming who hadn’t been there before. “Colonel Cross, I suggest you turn around.”

_Cause the writing’s on the wall_

The man dropped the apple core to the ground, and it lay there sadly. He faced the backwall and his eyes widened as he read the name, and then he looked back to the figure. A voice formed in his head that hadn’t been there before. One so bright, sharp and innocent that it was painful. _Webby. Webby. WeBBY WEBBY WEBBY WEBBY WEB-_

_The writing’s on the wall._

Webby picked up the vial of Miss Holloway’s blood that had reformed itself and she smirked, her amber eyes glinting as she uncapped the vial. She let the substance form as a slime in her hand as Wilbur’s eyes widened with fear. He shook his head, backing away, as she licked her two sharp teeth that she had. “Say goodbye, Wilbur.” She slapped her hand against the crack in the fabric that had originally been repaired, and with a shriek, and another bright light, Wilbur disappeared.

John shielded himself from the sudden, bright blast he’d experienced. When he removed his hand from his eyes, he noticed something odd. He was stood in a silky pool of light blue reflective water that rippled in welcoming waves. Around him, the walls were made of a soft light-grey brick that had vines growing up it before his very eyes. He no longer felt threatened by the realm but welcomed. It was light, visible, and under Webby’s control.

The spider, who slung part of a web to the side of the bricks, stepped forward and offered a hand to the two of them. “You can remove your helmets now, it’s alright.” She reassured, helping the two up.

Reluctantly, Xander removed his, and when he inhaled crisp, clean air, he gave the nod of approval to John, who also removed his. Xander couldn’t remember a time where John had ever pulled him into a kiss quicker than then. Xander smiled gently, kissing him back, before looking at Webby.

“Come on. Let’s get you two home,” she said, and with a click of her fingers, another bright light filled the room. When it faded, the two had been transported back to the portal room, which was empty. They shared a tight hug of achievement before deciding on speaking about the situation when they got home.

They took Xander’s car and John treated himself to a cigarette as the two drove home in the fake leather suits. Once inside, and in pyjamas, and curled up in bed, John looked at him. “I love you so much…you saved my _life._ ”

“Through sickness and in health, dear,” Xander said and cupped his cheek, shaking his head.

“It’s different. Without you…it’s-“

“Shh…” Xander said and kissed him softly, pulling him closer, a hand cupping his husband’s cheek. “I know.”

The two looked at each other in the eyes for a long while, drowning themselves in the other’s beauty, before John pulled Xander even closer, and their eyes shut. Xander kissed John back, John wrapping his arms over Xander’s shoulders as Xander shifted into a better position for the two of them. They’d made it out alive, and they conquered The Black and White. Hope was finally restored to Hatchetfield. Hope was finally restored to them…

_How do I live? How do I breathe?  
When you're not here I'm suffocating  
I want to feel love, run through my blood  
Tell me is this where I give it all up?  
How do I live? How do I breathe?  
When you're not here I'm suffocating  
I want to feel love, run through my blood  
Tell me is this where I give it all up?  
For you I have to risk it all  
'Cause the writing's on the wall_

**Author's Note:**

> anyways spectre says this is valid. hi i'm spectre and i use both the names jay and spectre don't get confused i'm confused myself spectre is my non binary name is jay is my name name. punctuation is for losers fuck you anyways:
> 
> i watch spectre in media studies once, listen to a song about spies and go "wow this has mcnamander energy" forgetting peip are basically spies and then i slapped myself across the face
> 
> anyways i hope yalls enjoyed your 7000 word trip back to drowsytown. 
> 
> and if ur dumb:  
> R-3D: red  
> OR-3NG: orange  
> Y-3LO: yellow  
> G-R3N; green  
> BL-U3: blue  
> P-3PL: purple
> 
> i've had these chemicals in sypf for a long time anyways i'm going away now goodbye


End file.
